Chapter 374: There is One More (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 374: There is One More (3)
Leaving them behind made him feel guilty, but on the other hand, it also brought him joy.
The pink pads of a white hind paw dangling from a hammock and a gray tail swishing beneath a cushion quickly vanished. In their place, two round faces peeked out.
And then—
Pitter-patter…!
They weren’t puppies, nor did they always act cute and clingy, yet they always ran to him with such a fuss. Once they reached him, they’d raise their voices, letting out the most adorable meows and purrs.
As if they were truly, deeply glad to see him.
As if they had been waiting for a very long time.
“Lucy, Anne.”
The first time he had been away for an extended period, they had cried sorrowfully. But now, they seemed to have grown used to his long absences. They no longer threw such tantrums. Instead, they simply welcomed him back.
In a royal palace full of secrets and schemes, they were the only ones who ran to him with their entire beings, without a single calculation, tirelessly calling out to greet him. Grateful for the way they welcomed him with all their might, he reached out and scooped them up, holding the two cats close as they completely filled his arms.
“Lucy.”
“Meow!”
“Even your belly has gotten round, Anne. What have you two been up to?”
“Mew!”
“It’s true. Why the attitude?”
Before he knew it, moments like this had become natural. He sat down, forgetting all his duties, and let himself soak in the cats’ warmth and comfort.
“I was wondering how you were doing.”
“Meeow!”
“Yes. I didn’t forget you. I didn’t abandon you.”
In reality, they might just be begging for treats, or perhaps asking, Who are you to trespass in my territory again? But he chose to understand them in his own way and replied as he pleased. This, too, had become a part of his daily routine.
“Meow!”
“Yeah. Me too.”
“Meow…!”
“Yes. I missed you.”
Uttering words he had never spoken in his life, without even a hint of awkwardness, was becoming as familiar as breathing.
Lucy didn’t seem to particularly enjoy being touched, but she quietly tolerated it for now. Franz chuckled as he looked at her pink paws and Anne’s plump belly, which was undoubtedly rounder than before.
“You’re wearing new clothes.”
“Mew!”
“Did Hina give them to you?”
“Meow!”
White blossoms were embroidered on a pale yellow background for one, and on a pale pink background for the other.
He had heard they were common white flowers that grew by the roadside, but come to think of it, he had never seen them with his own eyes. A flower so common you wouldn’t notice it unless you were actively looking. Yet, it was an unforgettable flower—to Franz, the only flower that was a flower yet not a flower. Laricium. The cats wore new clothes embroidered with several of those special blossoms, beautiful garments that carried the warmth of a highly skilled hand.
“It suits you, Lucy.”
“Meow!”
Wearing a pale yellow, hooded robe like a mage’s, Lucy replied as she settled onto his lap.
“Meeew!”
Having lost the best spot, Anne tapped Franz’s arm with her cotton-ball paw and made her presence known.
“Yes, you too, Anne.”
Anne wore a pale pink shirt with a red ribbon instead of a hood. Seeing them both dressed up like that filled him with an indescribably soft, warm sensation, and a tiny, quiet smile escaped his lips.
After spending some leisurely time with the cats, he took a quick shower and came out to get dressed. Relic held a cardigan—a blend of white and dark gray, a color chosen specifically so Lucy and Anne’s fur wouldn’t show easily. Seeing it, Franz spoke.
“Not that.”
Something other than the cardigan.
That meant one of two things: he planned to go to the training ground and needed more comfortable clothes, or he was heading outside Chermil Palace and required more formal attire.
Thinking quickly, Relic chose one of the options. “Are you going to the training ground?”
“Wilhelm Pavilion.”
Wrong.
The only time Franz didn’t mind speaking at length was when he was with the cats. Relic knew how exhausting his master found it to speak to others. He spoke in short sentences to Calian because Calian understood everything perfectly anyway, and he spoke curtly to Relic because he had grown comfortable with him.
So, it was fine to be wrong. He could just get it right next time.
“Yes, Your Highness. I will bring you a jacket.”
Delighted by Franz’s return, Relic beamed and nodded. He handed the thin cardigan to another servant and retrieved a pale purple jacket. Since it was late, he hadn’t planned on offering a tie, but seeing that Franz intended to dress formally, he hurriedly brought over a dark gray one embroidered with silver thread and fastened it for him.
“Your Highness, what would you like to do about dinner?”
“At the Wilhelm Pavilion.”
“Understood. I will have them bring it as soon as it is ready.”
“Two.”
“Will Prince Calian be dining with you? In that case, I should order a bit more—”
“Not him. The Vice-Commander.”
“Ah… Ah, yes. Vice-Commander Hertz. Yes, understood.”
Arsen?
Franz was arranging a meal for Arsen?
Relic made a mental note to check if the sun rose in the west tomorrow. No, he should check if the sun would even rise at all.
Quickly swallowing his shock, he adjusted the knot of the tie and attached an ornament of black pearls and platinum chains. He was overjoyed, thinking, Our Highness must have gotten much closer to the Vice-Commander after spending the last few days together.
He had no idea of the calculating thoughts hidden behind those cool green eyes.
Franz was doing this to ensure that the crazy, blue-haired mage wouldn’t use the excuse of being hungry to slip away and never return. He wanted to keep him there, working through the night to finish the piled-up paperwork.
That way, when his younger brother decided to head out again—which could be at any moment—Arsen wouldn’t be able to interfere by claiming Valkan’s work was backlogged.
Relic remained completely oblivious to this scheme.
“You are all set, Your Highness. Will you be heading out right away?”
“Yes.”
“Understood. I will call for a carriage.”
“No need.”
“Are you walking to Wilhelm Pavilion again?”
Franz merely nodded once and left the room. It was a fair distance, but it was a path he usually walked.
He headed down the stairs.
Third floor. Yan, standing by the wall facing the staircase, bowed slightly. Franz noticed the bow was slightly deeper than a mere nod, likely because of the other people around. Without paying it much mind, he acknowledged the greeting and continued on his way.
Second floor. One of Calian’s attendants, Merlin, was walking up with two cups of tea. He bowed in greeting. A honeyed scent, so sweet it was hard to describe, wafted through the air. The aroma was so strong it completely overpowered the lemon in the teacups, causing a corner of Franz’s mouth to twitch upward.
He didn’t know what whim had prompted it, but it seemed Randel had paid a visit to Calian’s room. After all, his younger brother held grudges long enough to wrap around Sispanian’s body several times over. Knowing Calian’s personality—that he wouldn’t let even a single cup of grapefruit tea go unreturned—Franz walked past Merlin and kept moving.
First floor. He stepped out of the main entrance, walking past the splash of the fountain and the rustle of leaves. He followed the path paved with small, flat stones and received salutes from the knights guarding the entrance to Chermil Palace. Without stopping, he kept walking.
“…It has been quite a long time.”
Halt.
His feet stopped.
“Crown Prince… Franz.”
Turquoise hair, turquoise eyes, a handsome face, and a gentle smile. Yet, his eyes were sharp—honed and polished by something unseen.
Franz raised his head.
He looked down with cold eyes.
He stared straight into the sharp gaze of a man who seemed taller than Alan, taller than Kyrie, and thus about two fists taller than Franz himself.
“Who are you?” he asked.
Relic’s voice came from behind him. This time, he had perfectly understood Franz’s brief question and the meaning behind it. He spoke softly, mindful of Gray standing before them, yet his voice was just loud enough to be clearly heard.
“That is Marquis Gray Brissen of the Brissen family, Your Highness. Do you happen to recall the recent Noble Council meeting, where Prince Calian lost his temper because a certain noble failed to greet you properly?”
Relic paused for effect.
“That is the marquis from back then.”
“Ah.”
Nodding as if he had only just remembered, Franz looked at Gray once more. He looked down at Gray, who was taller than him, without fail.
“Brissen… I see.”
And he resumed his walk.
An act of completely forgetting they shared the Brissen bloodline.
An act of drawing a line, treating him no differently than any other noble.
That was Franz’s answer to how he would treat the remaining Brissens.
The handsome smile lingering on Gray’s lips deepened.
If it had been Evan, anger would have flared up, preventing him from saying anything further. But Gray was different. At the very least, Gray knew how to swallow his anger and smile.
“Yes. I am indeed the Marquis of the Brissen family, Gray Brissen. I did not realize you had forgotten me, which is why I failed to introduce myself. Please forgive my rudeness.”
Franz’s feet stopped once more.
“Congratulations on ascending to the position of Crown Prince, Your Highness. I was unable to congratulate you properly when we last met, so I offer my words now.”
To his nephew, who ignored him by pretending not to recognize him, pretending not to be a Brissen, acting as though he were born solely of the noble dragon’s bloodline—Gray responded with congratulations.
Franz turned his head toward Gray.
He spent a brief moment weighing whether to ignore him again or to offer a smile, but Gray spoke first. A soft whisper drifted from those pleasantly smiling lips.
“In a way, I envy you. Having such a good younger brother… unlike me.”
Fragrant, venomous words.
At those words, which seemed steeped in the scent of Renieri, the sharp click of Relic’s heels on the stone path could be heard.
Does he need to get beaten up again to snap out of it? I heard Suleiman is in the capital; shouldn’t he be fleeing somewhere far away to hide his lack of Aura?
Franz considered asking such questions, but instead—
“Thanks to him.”
It was a statement with absolutely nothing wrong with it. So, he replied as if it were nothing. And he began to walk again.
He pushed off with his toes.
He walked, making sure not to falter.
*
He drank no more tea.
If he had known this would happen, he would have stopped Yan from clearing away the cup that had been placed before him earlier, but it was too late. Even so, he couldn’t bring himself to touch the overly sweet tea Randel had been served, so he left it alone.
“As far as I know, this is the first time you’ve come to find me, Brother Randel. Am I correct?”
He had told Randel it was fine if he didn’t accept that the old Calian was gone and a new soul had taken his place. But that didn’t mean he would go out of his way to hide the truth. While he might yield to Franz, who was still growing, he had no intention of yielding to Randel, who was already a grown man.
“Yes. That is correct.”
“Then may I ask why you came?”
Randel, who had been staring at Calian for a while, nodded. He reached into his coat, pulled out a small letter, and set it on the table. Calian’s brow furrowed slightly.
“It smells of blood.”
A faint scent of blood, now almost entirely faded—as if it had never been heavily stained to begin with—wafted from the letter.
“Does it?”
“What is this?”
“Open it.”
Glancing between the letter and Randel, Calian picked it up. He had a vague premonition of where it had come from and what it might contain.
“Is it from Tensil?”
“Where else?”
“True enough.”
With a soft rustle, he unfolded the paper.
—I happened to meet your younger brothers in Secritia. Speaking with them has made me feel a sense of closeness to you. Since you and I can also be considered brothers, I would like us all to meet, build our friendship, and share the stories we have put off for so long.
Calian quickly scanned the letter and looked up.
“Did you get emotional because someone finally sent you a letter saying they wanted to be friends? Are you thinking of keeping it as a precious memento?”
“Burn it.”
“Yes.”
The moment he answered, flames erupted in his hand. The smell of burning paper gradually consumed the scent of blood.
Soon, Calian pointed toward Randel’s heart.
“When you formed the Seal of Oath… did you also promise to report everything you learn to someone?”
“Would I have done such a thing?”
“You never know.”
“I did not.”
It was a relief. Even if Randel found out about something, he wasn’t obligated to report it to the other party of the Seal. If that had been the case, he would have had to inform them about Calian’s soul being swapped. It was truly fortunate the contract wasn’t like that. Otherwise, regardless of the Evil God or world peace, he would have been killed by Demirea. He would have died a second time without even knowing what would happen next.
“The terms of your contract must be quite specific, seeing how certain you are.”
“There were many clauses. Though, since I have not formed one twice, it is difficult to compare.”
“My other brother made an absurd contract, so yours is relatively better. It seems you made a smarter deal than he did, Brother Randel.”
“Is that mockery?”
“It is a reprimand.”
What on earth did they grow up watching to go around selling their hearts so easily? Calian muttered to himself, recalling the letter that had burned away without leaving a speck of ash.
“Is the person who sent you the letter Crown Prince Serjein of Tensil?”
“Yes.”
“Serjein is dead.”
Clink.
Randel, who hadn’t touched his teacup, picked it up, took a slow sip, and set it down. Calian watched him with calm eyes.
“Is that so?”
“The Serjein I met in Secritia, the one who sent you this letter, and the one who is trying everything to come here—they are all fakes. The real Serjein was gravely injured long ago. He was still alive when I was in Secritia.”
A pale finger pointed to the spot where the letter had been moments ago.
“He died on the day this letter was sent.”
The letter had mentioned wanting to meet but lacked any details on when, where, or how. That was why Calian had burned it without bothering to commit its contents to memory. What ‘Serjein’ wanted to convey was not the message, but the name and the scent. The smell of blood on a clean letter, faint enough that Randel wouldn’t recognize it, but just strong enough for Calian to notice.
“Did His Majesty ever ask you, while walking on eggshells, if you would mind him inviting Serjein to Kairis?”
“I have not met His Majesty separately since you returned from Secritia.”
Ah, seriously.
Go meet him.
Do you even know there’s a rumor that Corn Silk has a fiancée? His Majesty needs to meet you, his eldest son, to figure out how to respond. Pea made a request to His Majesty about Serjein, and His Majesty came here to give an answer, but he got scolded by Pea, apologized immediately, and completely forgot why he came in the first place. I know your heart is so shattered that you can’t even bring yourself to hate him, but couldn’t you at least see him?
Of course, he couldn’t actually say any of that. Knowing how broken Randel’s heart was, he couldn’t bring himself to speak those words.
“I see.”
I’m going to die of frustration.
Smoothing the frown on his brow, Calian gulped down his lemon tea to wash away the bitter taste in his mouth.
“Did you come just to deliver that? Do you have anything else to say?”
“Would I?”
“Probably not.”
“Indeed.”
“Understood. If His Majesty asks later if it’s alright to meet Serjein…”
“I will tell him I do not mind.”
“Thank you.”
Having said that, Calian looked at Randel and asked in a quiet voice, “By the way… does your heart not feel heavy?”
Randel, who was about to stand, looked at Calian. He stared deeply, truly deeply. Pretending not to notice, Calian spoke again.
“I am asking if it doesn’t feel heavy, since there is a stone inside it.”
“…I do not know.”
He wasn’t talking about the Seal of Oath. He was referring to the red healing power Randel used—a light that was the same as the one used by the members of Zeon.
“If it ever feels heavy, if it becomes too much to bear, please tell me.”
“You speak as if you can make it lighter.”
“I don’t think it’s impossible,” he replied casually, as if it were nothing.
—The stone inside the heart, I think I can take it out. But it could be dangerous. So, don’t do it on a good person’s heart. Tell me when we’re fixing a bad person’s heart.
It wasn’t because his eldest brother was a bad person. It was because he was worried the stone would be heavy. Because of what had been attached to him back when he wasn’t a good person, he might never be able to fully return to being one and would have to carry that weight forever.
“If you are willing to risk your life, I will give it a try.”
He was merely passing along what he had heard from Hina—that it was possible to remove it.
“I will keep that in mind.”
“Yes.”
Randel nodded. Then, he quietly stood and walked out. His steady, low footsteps grew distant and soon faded away completely.
Calian, who had stood to show his respect, confirmed that the door was closed. Instead of sitting back down, he looked around the room. He stared at Randel’s teacup, which was missing exactly two sips, and let out a shallow sigh.
“It seems I have far too many things to worry about.”
Whether it was Serenti or the Evil God, whoever had brought Bern—who had died twice and been left with nothing—to this place must have intended for him to sort out this family first, regardless of the Axis of Time. He couldn’t even die in peace. Anyway, if I ever meet that bastard, I’m not letting them off easy.
Even after letting out a sigh filled with such grumbling, his mind remained uneasy. So, for the first time in a while, he stepped out onto the terrace.
A spring breeze blew.
It felt nice.
Basking in the wind, Calian let his mind clear and turned his head. And he saw them.
“That’s strange.”
Gray was entering Chermil Palace, and Franz was leaving it. He watched for a long time as the person who should be coming in and the person who should be going out at this hour seemed to have swapped places. He ignored Gray, who was entering when he should be leaving, and kept his eyes fixed on the one who should have been coming in but wasn’t.
To others, it might not have been obvious, but to Calian's eyes, those footsteps stood out clearly.
Those footsteps.
Swaying, yet exceptionally straight.
Why is he so utterly drained?
He even had his cats with him.
Then why is he so completely exhausted?
"...I'm curious."
His crimson eyes followed the turquoise hair of the man walking toward Chermil.